The Great Divide
by Two.Shot
Summary: Enlisted in the 141 Task Force, special agent Vickarnia Shosland experiences the happenings and causes of World War three, in a peculiar alternative view.
1. Meet Vickarnia

''_You know_… when _they say 'silent infiltration', _they don't usually mean kill _every single person _inside the base, including the dog.''

Mctavish's lulled voice crackled from Vickarnia's singular ear piece, in a dull drone.

Hefting the suppressed Benelli M3 shotgun to cradle near her chest, the black clothed woman stared into the bitter blizzard that roared and raged outside the small dimly lit barracks she occupied, shrouding what lay out the door.

Her bent knee rested on the back of a freshly neutralized sentry, supporting her as she took her time in waiting, listening for any alarming sounds- gauging her next maneuver.

She replied, ''One _dead_ hostile, is one _less _hostile.''

''Just plant the explosives… I'm _getting_ frost bites up here.''

Smirking at the discomfort of her co-opted over watcher, Vickarnia's right hand left the support role of her gun and slid a pair of night vision goggles onto her eyes, drowning the world in a murky green- '_'I will do.''_

* * *

><p>The wintry choked night was like a woeful void and vacuum, swallowing the noises and objects alike, making even the rumble of a jet's engine small in its scream- and the beam of a flashlight nothing more then a lame candle. Truly Zero visibility.<p>

Vickarnia had only left tracks and concealed bodies in the snow, careful not to add witnesses to that list and announce her presence to the dormant station. Weaving through the portable housings and compounds scattered across the isolated frozen plateau, her head was always swiveling, wary, and always alert for that dark profile of a patrolling soldier moving about that would force her to go prone.

But in this wild joining of elements, she knew she was a ghost.

Her ear piece buzzed again: -''_Allright_… _I've_ located the _depot_… place is clear, how's your end?''

''_Goddamn frozen_,'' She replied.

''Be _serious Vick_.''

''The gas and fuel silos are taken care of… I also snuck a little surprise into their com-tower.''

''_Good thinking, that will help-_- don't want them somehow _swatting down our bird_.''

''_Nah_, just wanted to make them more _miserable.''_

''Right, Go and meet me behind the warehouse.''

* * *

><p><em>''Took the scenic route eh<em>?'' Said Mctavish, as Vickarnia appeared around the buildings corner.

''_No_, _took_ the pantry route, their hot dogs are _delicious_!''

''Just keep it _down.''_

Inspecting the firing chamber of the Benelli, Vickarnia nimbly jogged to the front of Soap, positioning her self to the flank of the door as she renegotiated with the night goggles over her eyes by hand for comfort.

Her partner approached the door and lowered himself to a knee before it, from a pouch- he produced a petite snake camera, and with ease, manipulated it slowly under the door way.

''_Were good here,'' _he stated- and withdrew from the ground.

Vickarnia reached out to the knob and curved the door open, allowing Soap to step first inside fully- with muffled pistol held out in search.

''_Keep it tight_.''

''_Why does every one have to keep saying that!_?'' Vickarnia moaned.

* * *

><p>The depot's blocky interior was pitch black and hollow- but it was a sanctuary that was silent and motionless, opposing the storm outside. Ahead- pools of sickly yellow light lined the edges of the opaque complex.<p>

Traversing to the end of the corridor that lead by portal to the main room, Mctavish leveled his 1911 pistol to the floor and pressed himself against the wall to survey behind the corner.

His hand later broke away from his pistol and horizontally swiped the air in the sign of _'clear'._

''_So_, _exactly_ how did this American satellite get _grounded_? Was it _shot_ down?'' Vickarnia quietly mused openly, following Soap into the doorway.

''_Why_ are you asking _me_?'' Soap retorted.

''_You're the senior_ _commander_… _wouldn't_ the _brass_ fill you in with such details? Oh! And you're the only person with me.''

''_Does_ it really matter to _us two_?''

''… Clarity _is_ kinda nice.''

''All I can say, is that the '_Powers That Be'_ point _the_ stick and I _follow_, nothing else is important, now… be quiet.''

''_But if the satellite was intentionally grounded by a foreign nation's government then there would be international sca-''_

''_SSSHH_!''

* * *

><p>''<em>Great… <em>the module _isn't _here,'' Soap grimaced as he pulled his head from the cavity of the space craft, ''Vick, _search_ topside.''

''On it,''

The clunk of boots on metal gildings quietly echoed inside the sheet metal building while Vickarnia ascended its side by stairs- with hands tight around her firearm, peering through jade lighted lenses.

Coming to a catwalk overlooking the court of the depot, she made her way into a packed office space, where the image of papers and miscellaneous items enclosed her.

''Hurry it up Vick, our ride is probably waiting,'' Radioed Mctavish

''Oh _get off_ my back, there is a _tank_ load of stuff _in here_.''

''_It's a square electronic_ storage agent, its probably up there.''

Positioned to the far end of the room, sharp green and red lights of an electric device blinked and glowed like little eyes.

As Vickarnia neared to it, she saw that it was connected by thick black cables to a large rectangular processing unit, where a small dormant screened laptop sat squarely. At the sides of the unit- more wires exited from it into a hole cut from the wall- leading outside someplace else.

Amused… Vickarnia placed her attention on the laptop, and activated it by tapping the touch pad.

In Large words displayed in Russian, the verse ''In transfer' was lain on the screen, where a colorful circular shape below revolved steadily.

''_Hmmmmmm..._''

* * *

><p>Plunging legs and feet into knee deep snow in the utter dark, the clandestine pair increased their distance from the remote Airbase, heading towards their designated exfiltration point- with the ACS module in care.<p>

''Do you know _what_ the satellites _primary_ service was?'' Asked Vickarnia, who relied on her ear piece to effectively communicate with Soap in the blaring snow storm.

''It was an Air Security opted system, used by the Americans for its nations defense measures.'' He responded

''And the Russians retrieved it to compromise the system?''

''Appears so,''

''So what would the Americans do if they are compromised?''

''Alter their systems, probably.''

''But—'' Vickarnia yanked a sunken limb from the maw of the snow, '_'But since the Russian Federation sought to solely crack the North American Aerospace Defense Command by capturing the down module from the satellite- therefore endangering the west with the possibility of an unprecedented attack that could kill millions in effect by use of Long range ordinance and even invasion- not to mention__** if **__the craft was shot down on purpose, shouldn't the U.S issue a state of warning since this is clearly an act of possible wa-''_

''_SSSHH!'' _


	2. Game Set

**Task Force 141 Systems**

Audio/Video Image

Satellite Picture Location: Russia, Moscow

* * *

><p>''Why is it that nobody told <em>me<em> this thing had internet?'' Said Vickarnia.

''_Lets_ just _pay_ attention to the _monitor_, Vick,'' Mctavish advised, ''-_Gaz,_ whats on our plate today?''

''It's _bloody_…'' Remarked Gaz icily, watching dark grey and white photo's of bullet ridden corpses stack onto the screen- archived by security camera.

''Civillians, near a hundred, massacred by the hand of our old familiar, Makarov. A Damn Genocide.''

''And from reading the report, _also_ by the hand of _one_ of our _own._'' Vickarnia noted monotonically, having the ends of her words lean of in amusement.

It was a '_Private Joseph Allen'_ Right?'' Vickarnia continued, biting on her words. ''_Why_ was there an American _with_ Makarov in the _first place_?''

''Commander _Sheppards _intelligence _unit_,'' Mctavish answered, ''he peeled Allen from the recruits to us, he was sent to infiltrate Makarov- worm inside the operation,''

''And now that Allen _is_ dead, along with_ this mess _at his feet… The West takes credibility,'' Gaz murmured.

''Along with the heat.''

staggering onto the screen, photos of a suited Joseph lined the center, accented with a bright red '_K.I.A'_ above.

''_What you're_ saying...'' Vickarnia worded dryly, ''is that the **_CIA_** _planted_ an _agent_ into the Zhakeyev terrorist network- to become _an_ _informative_ channel...''

''Yes,'' Soap confirmed,

''-_You_ **_realize_** that we've been _hunting with an elephant gun for_ Zhakeyev's insane lieutenant _for_ **years,**'' She elaborated,

''The pen pushers at the Kremlin and DC have been scrounging on micro thin scraps of phantom info for a _single_ _plausible_ lead pointing to the where abouts of _Makarov- _The_ Red Poltergeist._ Are you even _aware_ of the past years of liberal use with drone strike programs - Precision assassination attempts - _Splinter Cell_ deployments - Global _Wire_ taps - **_All_** funded just to _find_ and _kill_ this _man_?''

A crisp mug shot of Makarov's features appeared on the monitor.

''W-''

''_-And NOW THE_ yanks_ just __**suddenly**__ and successfully insert _one of their men into his command- to become_ an __**aid**_ in a_ massive terrorist attack_ that kills dozens of people in the _RF- including himself._ Why didn't the U.S inform the FSB about what was going to happen, why wasn't there an intervention **_made_**? They had A _MAN_ with _MAKAROV_ for **Puten's** _Sake_! That's like saying you had a friend who tagged along with Osama bin Laden on the weekends!''

A brief, hard silence fell over the digital meeting.

''I _blame_ InfinityWard,'' noted Gaz.

''Well… at _least_ the Russians didn't crack the ACS module,'' Soap inclined.

* * *

><p>Twelves hours later...<p>

* * *

><p>''They cracked the <em>ACS<em> module,'' provided Commander Sheppard over radio link.

A brittle agitated '_dammit_!' - recessed from Soap. But it was barely heard over the massive burr of the CH-47's twin rotors, that sliced and bladed below the dark grey Atlantic skies.

''_Stupendous_,'' Whispered Vickarnia tartly, running a weathered hand across her shaven scalp idly, ''_besides that_… great job on that _insider_ thing of yours _Sheppard_, that turned out _well_.''

''Your _spite_ is _dully_ noted, soldier- but in respect- you don't know anything beyond what is _described_ as the _surface_, this runs deeper then you know.'' Sheppard reacted, speech layered in a buzz of static.

''_Is that so_?'' Vickarnia quietly drawled ''...The NSA sure was scratching their heads when news of this came out, you _rarely see_ **them** scratch their heads, sir.''

''Joseph was placed _within_ enemy lines under my oversight to gain the trust of its head masters, to delve farther into the iron web that has been wrapped around the neck of the East, he was going to attack the root of the problem, not the branch known as Makarov- he had to _earn_ that _trust_ _to do_ it.''

''_By emptying twelve beta mags in that airport, sir_?''

''..._We_ _all_ have to go to the extremes for the protection and well being of those we serve under the _flag, no matter the costs and dues_… _I'm_ sure your time in the in the Splinters was _no_ different, agent.''

Vickarnia fell silent.

''-But right now Vick... this is not the time to dwell on recorded events-'' Sheppard reiterated ''I can't change the past, we have more important matters to set our eyes on. A _war_ is set, and we must take action. You will take on the counter strike, I assume your _up to_ the _task_.''

''_...For the Red White and Blue,_ sir.''

''Good, your contact in Brazil will be waiting.''


End file.
